


Inaccuracies

by FumeKnightofShovelry



Series: Gency One-Shots [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mortal Kombat, Post-Recall, genji being a stickler about ninja, mercy is unexpectedly into violent video games, some brief mentions of mortal kombat violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 02:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15547827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FumeKnightofShovelry/pseuds/FumeKnightofShovelry
Summary: Mercy has several questions about the authenticity of the characters in a video game she's recently started playing, and who better to ask than her boyfriend?





	Inaccuracies

“…Angela, are you honestly asking for my opinion on _this_? Of all things?”

Doctor Ziegler winced. It wasn’t like Genji to react to her requests with such incredulity, but she supposed that the entire situation was so ridiculous that she couldn’t blame him.

What had begun as a brief glance at a game’s name and cover from the corner of her eye while visiting Hana had become something that Angela had never expected would go as far as it had. Now, she was here in front of their television, her boyfriend was exasperated, and there was no going back.

“Yes, Genji, I’m perfectly serious. I would greatly appreciate it if you were able to help me evaluate the authenticity of what I am about to show you.”

Genji quirked his eyebrow beneath his helmet: he always tilted his head to the right when his left eyebrow rose. He could survive without the helmet covering his face, and could remove parts of his armor safely, but he’d grown so used to his cybernetic body parts that he was usually more comfortable staying in his suit than going through the effort to remove it.

“Honestly, Angela,” Genji wrung his hands, the exoskeleton clicking slightly as the joints of his elbow bent, “I understand where you are coming from, I really do, but I think you already know how I will react.”

“Please, Genji? I know it is not important, but I would still appreciate your input, given your experience with the subject matter,” she pleaded, brow furrowed and lip slightly pouted.

He sighed, metal pectorals rising and falling as he breathed with a small rattling sound from where the material pressed against his skin. He could never resist that begging expression, even if she didn’t realize she was doing it.

“I suppose it’s not too much to ask, Angela. And you’re correct: I have some familiarity with the source material.”

Angela let out a tiny squeal of delight, narrowing her eyes and clapping her hands together once. Genji was suddenly aware of his heartbeat echoing in his ears, pounding along with the pulses of heat across his face.

He was glad she couldn’t see him blushing.

“ _Danke, liebling!_ I promise it won’t take too much of your time.”

Angela turned, and Genji was grateful for the chance to let go of the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. She bopped the power button on the console below the television, snatching up the controller with her other hand as she did so. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t noticed it before, but he realized that this was one of the newer console models that boasted “Infinite backwards compatibility”, which was a fancy way of saying that they played games that ran out of distribution before Reinhardt was born.

The legal jargon and development credits faded in and out of existence, and Doctor Ziegler rapidly mashed the start button as the game’s title screen appeared from the blackness.

* * *

 

“I would like to know who decreed that ninja possess magical powers. I feel as though I received the short end of the stick, in a manner of speaking, since I’m unable to manipulate ice.”

Doctor Ziegler stifled a giggle. She’d only just begun her first demonstration, and Genji was already pointing out flaws in the video game’s character design.

“Well, you have your dragon spirit, right? Isn’t that a sort of magic?”

Genji shrugged, one hand coming off of the plastic held in his grip. His fingers were articulate enough that holding the controller wasn’t much different than when he had his original hands, but this was the first time he’d tried holding such a device since receiving his silver-and-green suit.

Angela reached over and interlaced her fingers with his, and Genji lost his train of thought. Her hand was soft, and the warmth lacing through her digits seemed a stark contrast to his cold, unfeeling metal.

“I don’t believe it’s magic. My mastery over the dragon is…something I do not fully understand myself. It simply happens when I need it, and does not appear when I do not. I suppose it is not unlike a reflex,” the ninja mused, tapping the controller against the plate covering his mouth, “The only ones who might be able to help me better understand this are dead, by my-”

Genji cut himself off. He didn’t like thinking about those years; his rage, his frustration, his potential for violence. Genji was still dangerous, but he was more stable where he was now, and he knew Angela was happy that he was in a better place. Being where he was now was the reason they were able to be together like this. Angela didn’t deserve to have to revisit the past like that, on such a lighthearted occasion.

He took a breath, and Angela squeezed his hand. _I know. But that was then. This is now._ We _are now_ , her grip seemed to say.

He started again. “And his outfit. It covers the face and masks the identity, yes, but everything else about it…the blue and the black, and the exposed arms? It stands out in a crowd. That is the exact opposite of what a ninja is supposed to do.”

Angela smiled, and her golden hair framed her face such that the sun appeared to be shining down on her from behind, creating a halo around the outline of her head. Genji tightened his hold on her hand, as if he could hold on to the image. His angel, lovingly gazing down at him, reaching out for the connection. Both for his sake, and so that she could move on from what she had left behind, what she had lost and kept losing over and over for decades and had now found again, in a different form.

A family.

Then he realized that the wall light directly behind her was creating the effect, and the fantasy faded as Angela began to speak.

“And I suppose that there are a great many silver-and-green mechanical men for you to blend in with?”

“Angela, if they’ve seen me, it is because I wish them to.”

She rolled her eyes and released his hand, but the gesture communicated no malice. Angela knew that Genji could get a bit defensive about how he presented himself to others, but a little good-natured teasing had helped him acclimate in the past, and it could now as well. It helped that she knew he wasn’t exaggerating: more than a few times, Genji had let himself in through their open window rather than use the door that he had a key for, but the neighbors swore that they never saw anyone climbing the walls outside their apartment.

* * *

 

“And what about this one?”

“No. That is not even how one uses a _kunai_.” Genji’s voice was firm and brooked no argument. Angela would have wondered if she’d offended him if she wasn’t familiar with the tone his voice took when he was _truly_ angry.

She hadn’t heard that in years, and she knew he hadn’t either. Genji had turned the page to enter a new chapter in his life, and she was forever grateful that he’d chosen to share that with her, for moments like this, when Angela knew he was at ease.

“And he is too loud. What is the point of being a ninja if you announce your every move? I understand the intimidation factor of shrieking ‘Get over here!’ when pulling an enemy to you, but in such a situation I imagine that they are already terrified. If they are not, then shouting alerts their allies to your position.”

“I recall that you yell, at the top of your lungs, the moment that you are preparing to strike with your dragon spirit. What is it you say again? ‘ _Ryūjin no ken wo kurae_ ‘?”

Genji nodded, and Angela could tell that he was smiling under his helmet. A tiny spot of pride swelled in her chest. She’d been practicing her Japanese, just like how he’d been practicing his German.

His lessons hadn’t been going nearly as well, but she appreciated the effort.

“Well done. Yes, I do make noise when channeling the dragon into my _odachi_ , but at that point, stealth is no longer an option.”

“I suppose you have me there. And would you prefer this one’s fire, or the other one’s ice?”

Her boyfriend paused. His brain was not cybernetic, but Angela supposed that the idea of “gears turning in Genji’s head” fit him more than most.

“Neither. Both leave obvious damage and have readily available countermeasures. I would choose poison, as it is less traceable and more difficult to mitigate.”

“Well, then, I suppose you won’t be happy with who employs poison in _this_ game.”

Genji winced. “No, I would not. I admire reptiles, but not to _that_ extent.

* * *

“This discussion is over.”

“Genji, it is fiction. Some artistic liberties are to be expected.”

“I understand that, but the inaccuracies here are too great to ignore! As a cyber ninja dude myself, I believe I am an authority on what elements constitute an actual cyber ninja! And this… _Triborg_ has none of them!“

Angela blinked. Genji was standing up, gesticulating wildly, and she was briefly concerned that he might lose his grip on the controller and watch it go flying into their television. From what Reinhardt said, this had been a very real problem in his parents’ time.

“Flamethrowers? Buzzsaws? _Missiles, rockets, and bombs_? Where was _I_ when these became standard equipment for ninja?”

Genji fell back onto the couch, breathing heavily, the filter for his voice having crowded out his regular speech pattern from his raised volume.

He paused. A thought seemed to occur to him, and he tilted his head at Angela. She knew he was raising his eyebrows at her.

“Angela, I cannot believe that this did not occur to me earlier, but…this game series is notorious for being one of the most explicitly violent in the industry. Why exactly did you take an interest in this game?”

Angela chewed her lower lip, a nervous habit Genji had caught onto early in their relationship. Clearly, she hadn’t been looking forward to this moment. For his part, Genji was flabbergasted that he hadn’t been thinking of this earlier. Perhaps anticipating the game’s poor depiction of ninja had distracted him from the very real question of “Why is my pacifist girlfriend playing the gorniest video game ever developed?”

“I…briefly glanced at it when visiting Hana several weeks ago. I did some research and discovered that the game contains something referred to as ‘X-Ray moves’, which purport to demonstrate the internal damage done by certain attacks.”

Doctor Ziegler couldn’t make eye contact with her boyfriend. Her cheeks had started to redden: the shame of going into the details of her guilty pleasure was palpable to Genji as she rubbed her forearm, and he extended a hand and placed it on the light blue fabric covering her shoulder to reassure her.

“Well, I got curious. Human anatomy obviously has not changed in the last half-decade, but I was wondering if changes in medical protocol might have led to a different-looking representation of internal trauma.”

“And?” Genji squeezed her shoulder lightly, feeling her pulse echo through his fingers.

“Well, the damage is certainly representative of what would occur if these attacks were performed on actual humans. The primary difference is that these humans _get back up from them_. Shattered skulls and ruptured brains are ignored completely! And I am not even addressing the lethality of ‘basic’ moves, such as the effect of point-blank contact with rockets the size of those employed by Triborg or even the force of the punches to the sternum used by many, many characters.”

“Let me guess: instant death?”

Angela nodded, turning back towards Genji. Her features relaxed, and she placed a hand over his on her shoulder and sighed.

“To put it mildly, though in the latter case there might be exceptions. But now, I am ‘into’ this game. I suppose, now that you’ve been reminded that it exists…”

“…That I might I play it with you? Of course, Angela. This small time spent on it with you has already proven to be very enjoyable.”

Angela laughed and leaned in to rest her forehead against Genji’s, and he returned the favor. When he didn’t feel like removing his mask, this was their equivalent of a quick kiss. She enjoyed the uniqueness: it felt like a private gesture that held real meaning for the two of them, and the two of them alone. One that could be done in public, but still have some secret significance.

“Angela?”

“Yes, Genji?”

“I am not going to play as one of the ninja.”

“I did not expect anything different, Genji.”

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for North Wind, a buddy of mine. You can find them here: https://northwindpersonal.tumblr.com/


End file.
